


The Sound of Love

by Lhugy_for_short



Series: Lhugy's Giveaway [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blind Ignis, Caregiver AU, Caregiver Prompto, Feels, M/M, extreme fluff, you might want some tissues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-04 01:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12158607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lhugy_for_short/pseuds/Lhugy_for_short
Summary: Ever since Prompto was assigned to his care (after the injury that left him blind), Ignis has found himself drawn to the young man's bright, imaginative personality. And to the pictures his voice paints when he describes the scenery in his photos. Through Prompto, Ignis has found a new way to observe the world - and in him, perhaps someone to share it with, as well.





	The Sound of Love

**Author's Note:**

> For Cardigan-Carm on Tumblr, who won my giveaway contest and requested: "An AU where Prompto is Ignis' caretaker and they fall in love, perhaps with background Gladnoct" - I have to be honest, this prompt seemed daunting at first, but then I remembered that old Australian movie 'Proof' (with Hugo Weaving and Russel Crowe - a must-see) and decided to base this story VERY LOOSELY off of that plot. I say loosely because that movie is full of suspense and betrayal and crazy stalkers, and I was just going for cute. 
> 
> Lil' bit of backstory (since this wouldn't fit in the 1,500 word limit lol)   
> Ignis was once a Secret Service Agent. He served on security detail for Noctis Caelum, son of the President of Lucis, alongside Gladio. One day, an explosive attempt on Noct's life cost Ignis his sight and Gladio the use of his left arm. Noct spent every day with them during rehabilitation, eventually falling in love with Gladio and promising Iggy that he will receive the very best care the Caelum family can provide.   
> The next day, Prompto shows up at his home - a camera in one hand and a fresh latte in the other.

Gladio is smirking. Ignis knows this without having to see his face. The signs are all there; in his voice, for example, which breaks ever so subtly as he fights back the urge to laugh. In the pauses he takes between his words. He’s known Gladio for far too long  _ not _ to be able to recognize when he’s being a complete asshat.

And Gladio has known Iggy for long enough to know exactly what gets under his skin. 

“So?”

“So  _ what?” _ Ignis sighs at last, falling right for the trap. 

“Have you told him yet?”

“Told  _ who what _ ?”

An eyeroll so hard it’s practically audible. “Prompto, that’s who. The kid you’ve spent the last half hour gushing about.”

“I haven’t been  _ gushing _ ,” he corrects defensively. “I’ve merely been telling you about my afternoon.” And he’s pretty sure it hasn’t actually been half an hour.

Still, Gladio presses. “Your afternoon which involved a stroll in the park - with Prompto - taking photos - with Prompto - and having lunch at a ‘quiet little cafe’ -  _ with Prompto _ .”

For a moment, Ignis doesn’t speak. He wants to deny it, of course, but finds that, well, he  _ can’t _ . The truth of the matter is that he  _ does _ find himself inexplicably drawn to the young man who has spent the last few months assigned as his caretaker. Prompto Argentum is bright, kind, one of the most genuine souls Iggy has ever had the pleasure of meeting. Anyone in their right mind would be attracted to him, it’s only natural. 

Still, Gladio’s knowing smirk continues to prickle his nerves as he lifts his mug to his lips and takes a long, purposeful sip. 

+++++++

“Here y’are, Mr. S.,” Prompto says, setting the tray onto Ignis’ lap and helping to guide his hand to the bowl there. “Be careful, it’s still pretty hot.”

“Thank you, it smells heavenly.” There’s a laugh in response - stammering, embarrassed - before the sofa dips and Iggy can feel Prompto’s weight beside him. 

“Actually, I put something special in it this time. Can you tell what it is?”

Ignis lifts the spoon to his mouth, but a warmth is already spreading through his chest from more than just the broth. He takes a sip, and a chorus of tastes fill his mouth - sweet, savory, a mix of vegetables (tomato, spinach, onion) and tender meat. One of his own recipes, he realizes, one he taught to Prompto when he’d first come to work for him. Iggy knows the dish by heart and yet -  _ ah, yes _ . There it is.

“You’ve added cumin,” he announces with an approving smile. “It’s delicious.”

“Y-you really like it?”

“Absolutely. I’m almost jealous I didn’t come up with this recipe myself.” 

Prompto’s hand is on his arm now, an unconscious touch, perhaps, but a distracting one all the same. “Aww, I bet you say that to all your admirers, Mr. S.” 

Iggy’s sharp intake of breath is only masked by the sound of coughing when he sucks in a lung-full of soup in the process. The tray is moved out of his lap. A moment later, a glass of water is being pressed into his palm, and then Prompto’s weight settles back down next to him. 

“Too much cumin, huh?”

“Something. Like that.” Meal forgotten for the moment, Ignis clears his throat of the last of the soup and instead gestures to the floor where he heard Prompto drop his bags earlier. “Before you go this evening, would you show me some of the photos you took at the park?”

“Huh?” A pause, Prompto’s breath stills as if he wants to speak, but isn’t sure quite what to say. Ignis favors him with a fond smile. 

“Describe them to me. If you would, of course.” 

“O-oh! Yeah, sure, of course,” comes the response, brighter this time, though still mixed with something akin to hesitation. Before Ignis can make sense of it, he hears Prompto digging through his bag, returning a moment later and settling comfortably against Iggy’s side. Another spark of warmth fills him as Prompto begins to speak. 

“So, the first few are just random shots of leaves on the ground.”

“What colors are they?” 

“Kinda yellow-orange. This one was a really pretty red, with a black spot in the shape of a heart.” 

“ _ Ah, _ I can see why you liked that one.”

“Yeah.” His voice grows more relaxed, deeper and more mellow as he describes photos of the lake, some squirrels, a chubby baby in a stroller and a man walking twelve dogs at once. Ignis laughs, imagines the scenes as vividly as if he had seen them all with his own eyes. Not unlike being carried away in a dream, floating on Prompto’s words and guided by the sound of his voice. He almost doesn’t notice when a soft head of hair comes to rest against his shoulder. 

“Oh,” Prompto says quietly.

“...What is it?” 

“I forgot I took this one.” Again, there’s a strange undertone there, a hesitance or a shyness he rarely hears in the young man. It piques Ignis’ curiosity, and he finds himself leaning closer as if to catch a glimpse of the screen. 

“Please, tell me.”

“...It’s a shot of you, actually. I, uh, noticed you standing next to a tree, and the color of the leaves behind you was the same color as your hair in the light.” When Prompto swallows, Ignis can feel it in his own chest. “You were smiling. Distant, in a way, but you looked so. So.”

“Yes?”

“...Beautiful.” 

Over the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears, Ignis almost misses the way Prompto gulps, then releases a breath. His body shifts sideways, awkwardly as if he’s trying to pull away, but before he can go Ignis stills him with a hand on his leg. 

He intended to reach for his knee, but Prompto’s position on the sofa means his fingers land on his thigh, instead. A bit forward, perhaps, but there's no taking it back now. “I would like to hear more about your photos, Prompto.” 

Several noises, ranging from surprise to embarrassment to awe when the younger man catches sight of Ignis  _ looking at him.  _ His left eye is closed, scarred and damaged as always, but his right eye - Prompto has never seen it open before. The iris is nearly as white as the rest, though there's something almost iridescent about it, as well. It holds him in place more powerfully even than the warmth of Iggy’s hand. 

“If you don't mind, I'd like you to stay a little while longer.” 

Prompto finds himself breathing out a  _ yes  _ even before he's aware he's speaking. This time, when he settles back down onto the sofa, it's against Ignis’ chest, tucked safely within his arms. He shares more photos, more stories and images of the world Ignis can no longer see, but can now once again feel connected to through Prompto’s voice. 

After the photos run out, Ignis asks Prompto to describe himself. Smiles dreamily at the description of chocobo-yellow hair and freckles, of stretch marks and lanky limbs. And he knows, as he’s suspected all along, that Prompto is beautiful. 

“Do you…,” the younger man starts quietly in the silence that's fallen. “Do you want to touch me?” 

Ignis hesitates. Nods. Soft fingers, firm yet trembling, wrap around his palms and guide his hands up to Prompto’s face. Iggy touches him, truly, for the first time. Ghosts the tips of his fingers over the contours of his cheeks, his nose, his brow, mapping out the features he finds there. He imagines every little bump and blemish as a freckle, smiling wider and wider as his image of Prompto is formed. When he at last reaches his lips he can feel each trepid breath against his skin, and his heart races in time with them. 

Prompto hesitates only for a second. 

The first kiss is subtle, so faint that Ignis can’t be sure what he just felt against the pad of his thumb. Then another, and another, accompanied by the wet sounds of lips moving over skin, and his cheeks flush with near unbearable heat. He starts to whisper Prompto’s name, but the second syllable is swallowed up when those lips are suddenly kissing  _ him _ .  

Prompto stays until well after dark, and long after the last bus that would have carried him home. He stays until morning when, slipping quietly out of Ignis’ arms, he gets dressed and jogs down to the coffee shop to get them each a latte. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Check out more FFXV stuff at lhugbereth dot tumblr dot com


End file.
